


Unexpected

by Ciule



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Self-Doubt, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Hermione Granger, Virgin Severus Snape, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciule/pseuds/Ciule
Summary: He was ready to thrust his way into her without any preamble, but she took hold of his shoulders, pushing him back. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she demanded.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 140
Kudos: 615





	1. Anticipate the Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> My take on adult Virgin!Snape. The idea spawned after seeing a Facebook post on Virgin!Snape stories. It’s a short story in four chapters. 
> 
> To be frank, I think it is SO very unlikely for Snape to be a virgin in his thirties. I mean, casual sex has got to be a thing in the Wizarding world too, lol. 
> 
> Still, I thought why not give it a shot, adding in a bit of arranged marriage to get him going… ;-) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Let’s do this, since there is no way out,” he snarled, pulling off his black cravat with angry, jerky movements, winding the long fabric around his fist, like he was planning to hit something -  _ hard.  _

The expression on Professor Snape’s face was even more grim than usual, his mouth set like he was about to do something distasteful, the furrows between his eyes deep and angry-looking, like his usual frown had etched itself into his sallow skin, becoming permanent. 

The dungeon room was colder than Gryffindor Tower, the chill seeming to seep from the stone floor and the vaulted ceiling, making her huddle beneath the thick blankets. Thankfully, the blankets felt soft, the wool on top lined with spider-silk underneath, sliding with a whisper over her bare skin. 

His rooms had been very much what she had expected: Stone walls lined with bookshelves, the shelves groaning underneath the weight of thousands of books and scrolls. The furniture was old-fashioned and sparse, the living room having only two wing back chairs and a table in front of a cavernous fireplace, plus a large desk. In the bedroom, there was a chair, a tall wardrobe and a large wooden chest. 

Everything was finely made in dark wood, apart from the bed, a black-lacquered monstrosity taking up most of the space in the room. The antique lacquer was cracking in places, trailing spidery pale lines over the surface, like the four poster bed was hundreds of years old. 

Clutching the green bedspread, she pulled it up to cover her breasts, her skin riddled with goosebumps.  _ Partly due to the cold, but also nervousness, and something that might be anticipation.  _ She was already naked under the covers, waiting for him to do the deed. 

She noted, he kept glancing covertly at her naked shoulders and chest as he undressed, revealing his pale, lean and scarred body as the layers of clothing fell. Unable to look away, though maybe modesty would have dictated that she shouldn’t be  _ staring, _ she caught a glimpse of a large, erect and already weeping cock when he finally had rid himself of all his layers of clothing. 

_ So, for all his snarling derision, there was desire for her, on some level. That made her feel a little better, no matter what he had said.  _

Severus Snape crawled onto the bed, pushing back the covers hiding her body to position himself between her legs, grabbing her hips hard to pull her closer. 

He made as if he was to thrust his way into her without any preamble, but she took hold of his shoulders, pushing him back. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she demanded. 

At that, his expression became incredulous. 


	2. Prepare for the Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you willing or no?” Severus asked, glaring at the girl. 
> 
> Better get it over with. Beating himself up in anticipation of her refusal was useless, he was very much prepared for being turned down, with this … travesty … of a proposal. 
> 
> Dumbledore threw him a dirty look, but the girl gazed at him then, her bottom lip quivering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter! In this chapter, we're a few days before the events of the first chapter.

“What a singularly idiotic idea,” Dumbledore sighed, pulling at his long, white beard. 

Severus rolled his eyes. “You can say that again,” he grunted, staring out into the blackness of the winter night, his back turned to the Headmaster. The faint lights from the rest of the castle were feeble and flickering. It was almost impossible to make out the hulking towers and turrets in the darkness, even from such a great vantage point as the Headmaster’s office. 

“Tom really means to populate the world with good little Death Eaters?” Dumbledore asked dubiously, like he hadn’t heard or believed Severus the first time. 

“It certainly seems like it,” he replied. “The married wizards and witches were ordered to go home and ensure pregnancies, while those of us who are yet unmarried must make sure to procreate quickly, preferably within marriage. He wants to grow an army of loyal subjects for the future too.” 

“And does he have any designs on who you are to choose, Severus?” 

The Headmaster was adjusting to the idea, Severus could tell, just by listening to his voice. It was clear, Albus Dumbledore’s quick mind was already scheming. He could only hope the Headmaster was planning how to get Severus out of this mess, rather than forming plans to marry him off _. That would be … embarrassing. But of course, he would have no such luck. He never had._

“None,” he said curtly. “I’m a Half-blood, and he as good as told me, I could do whatever I wanted. The Pure-bloods, however, they...” 

“Of course, you cannot marry outside the Order,” the Headmaster interrupted him. 

Severus stiffened. _Trust Albus to jump to the conclusion that Severus_ **_had_ ** _to follow through on this mad order._ “I realize that, if this must indeed happen, but gods forbid… _Nymphadora_ ? She’s the only single witch within child-bearing age.” He shuddered, thinking about what that cheeky little Metamorphmagus would do to his quiet, peaceful home life. _And how she would laugh…_

He could feel Albus’ grin without turning. “Not Miss Tonks, I think. She’s not even single, anymore. Remus, you know...” 

“Thank Merlin,” he muttered fervently, probably for the first time in his life feeling thankful for something one of the Marauders had done, before saying hesitantly: “Who then? Surely Minerva’s too old, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, I believe she might be, though I’ve hardly asked her about _that_.” Albus sounded a little scandalized by the thought that he was supposed to track the fertility of his staff, and Severus smiled grimly. Then the Headmaster continued: “But there is someone, not yet inducted, who’d be a suitable candidate.” 

“What?” He felt a cold trickle of fear down his spine, and the chimes from Albus’ spindly instruments suddenly seemed so sinister. 

_Tinkle - tinkle - tinkle_ … 

And the pieces clicked in his head. 

Turning around, he stared at the old Headmaster. For being so old and frail, he certainly looked smug. _Very smug, like he had just solved a difficult problem._

“No, Albus, no, you surely cannot mean… Not a student… a _Gryffindor_ student?” 

“Certainly!” the old codger said merrily. “Miss Granger will make an excellent wife for you.” 

Xxxx

“Marry Professor Snape?” 

The girl stared wide-eyed at the Headmaster, astonishment positively radiating off her, before turning her blushing face to him. Severus could tell, his Occlumency shields weren’t holding up properly, a faint flush spread over his sallow cheeks, signalling his slip of control. 

_At any moment now, he’d be ridiculed by the girl’s disgust for him, her overwhelming horror at the idea of being with him, touching him. Her greasy Professor, who was close to twenty years older than her. Merlin, he didn’t feel so very old, but to her, he’d appear ancient. And he was no prize, he knew that. Oh, she’d be appalled by the thought of marrying him. Any moment…_

“Yes,” the Headmaster said, explaining to the girl why it was imperative with a wife within the Order, and how the Dark Lord had formed this mad plan to populate the world with his loyal subjects. 

The girl blinked as she listened, her large, brown eyes locked on Albus’ thin frame, and Severus shivered. _She had become pretty, there was no denying that, but she was still much too young for him._ Glancing surreptitiously at her chest, he noted her breasts were nicely rounded, before he berated himself for checking out a student. _A student that might end up his wife, if she was willing. He’d see her naked, then, those breasts uncovered…_ Severus almost squirmed on his chair, feeling uncomfortably warm at the thought, his cock twitching slightly against his underwear. _He never thought of his students like that. Never!_

“It’ll have to be soon, very soon,” Albus continued, “or we might risk Voldemort taking an interest in Severus’ match. We cannot have that.” 

The girl almost stopped breathing, her lips parting slightly, and he flinched. 

_Yes, she would be disgusted by him, for sure. He could easily picture the look of revulsion on her face, as she saw his pale, scarred body, and her grimace every time he would reach for her. Could he even do this, facing scorn and disgust in his own bed, every night?_  
_  
She would expect a man of his age to know what to do with her, and when she found out his level of experience, she’d lose any respect she had for him. The look of disparaging pity and contempt that would fill those large, beautiful brown eyes would be … unbearable._

“Have you any prior attachments, Miss Granger?” the Headmaster inquired, and the girl shook her head, looking a bit sad and forlorn. 

“No,” she said bitterly, ducking her head, avoiding the eyes of the two wizards. “There’s none.” 

Severus’ inner voice kept talking to him, telling him that while the girl had no paramour, she certainly had friends, and it was a given she’d spill his every secret to her dunderheaded friends. _The Gryffindor Trio laughing at him behind their hands in every single class, taunting him with his weaknesses, telling everyone that their Professor hadn’t been able to …_

Shaking himself out of the nightmarish vision, he interrupted Albus’ rudely, as the Headmaster was spouting some drivel about honour, saving the world and the Greater Good. 

“Are you willing or no?” Severus asked, glaring at the girl. _Better get it over with. Beating himself up in anticipation of her refusal was useless, he was very much prepared for being turned down, with this … travesty … of a proposal._

The old man threw him a dirty look, but the girl gazed at him then, her bottom lip quivering. 

“Yes, Professor, I can do it. But I do have conditions.” 

Xxxx

“It’s not fucking true,” Harry breathed, staring at her, sitting beside her in the old, squashy red sofa. 

“It is,” she confirmed. Her eyes dragged over to Ron, snogging Lavender Brown as usual in a corner in the Common Room. “No one else is available.” 

The fire crackled, and the room looked bright and cosy like always, even though the January cold lay heavily over Scotland, making the bitter chill seep from the castle walls. Ron, however, looked flushed, but then again, Lavender was straddling his lap as they rocked slightly on a spindly chair. He had barely spoken to Hermione, these last few months after that Quidditch incident. 

“It’s _Snape_ ,” Harry hissed, grabbing her arm, the Muffiliato protecting their conversation from the other students. “You can’t marry him! He’s old, and he’s ...evil, he’s a greasy git … and he’s fucking _Snape_! You’re a sixth year student, and he’s a teacher! It should be illegal!” 

Harry was so riled up, his glasses had become askew, as he repeatedly dragged his left hand through his hair. 

“I know,” she mumbled. “But by doing this, I can also help the Order from blowing the Professor’s cover. Winning the war and protecting him is more important than my happiness.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, snarling: “He’s not a stray dog, Hermione! He’s a grown wizard! A dark one, even! Dumbledore can’t ask this of you.” 

Hermione sighed, before taking Harry’s hand, stopping his annoying motion of pulling his own hair. “Listen,” she said urgently, trying to rationalize this absurd situation she found herself catapulted into, “what he does is important for the war. A wife that isn’t a Death Eater or an Order member, will soon become very suspicious, either way. And a Death Eater wife is obviously out of the question. So, it has to be the Order, and then, there’s me.” 

_To be frank, she had been thrown by Dumbledore’s request. This wasn’t what she wanted for her life, but then again - how could she refuse? She knew how important Professor Snape’s work was to the Order, and nothing mattered more than making sure Voldemort didn’t win. If he did, people like her would be killed. And there was Harry’s life too… So what, if she had to sacrifice this? There was so much to gain, and so much to lose if she didn’t. She would make the best of it, no matter what._

“Merlin help us,” Harry muttered, squeezing her hand. “It’s just that… he doesn’t strike me as a man who’ll be nice and caring, and you deserve the best, Hermione, not …” 

“I hardly think he’ll be a wife-beater,” she groused, but Harry shook his head, releasing her hand, his hair becoming even more messy as he _again_ dragged his fingers through it. 

“I don’t know. I don’t mean to scare you, but he’s … You know, Hermione, he’s a nasty piece of work. And you’re going to live with that. You are going to _bed_ with that, having his children even. Are you really sure?” 

Xxxx

The BBC Classical played a mournful cello solo in the background. The forks and knives clinked down at the plates as the silver cutlery slipped out of her parents’ immobile hands, sauce spattering on her mother’s pristine tablecloth. 

Sternly, she said: “Sir, this won’t do, you’ll have to do better.” 

Her Professor sneered at her, before cocking his head. “Stunning your own parents, Miss Granger? How is that for an affectionate daughter?” His black eyes glinted maliciously at her. 

“Yes,” she said defiantly. “You promised me, you’d help me pretend we were happy and in love, so as to not worry them. This was my condition for going through with this. Instead, you’re scowling, and you throw insults at me left and right. Now, they are right to be worried, and you, sir, you made a _promise_.” 

The frozen, ferocious scowl on her parents’ faces was a match for the Professor’s, and she had indeed Stunned them to avoid even more unpleasantness. Professor Snape loomed over the dinner table as he rose, planting his fists firmly on her mother’s white damask tablecloth, leaning forward to glower at her, his beak of a nose jutting from his face, like he was about to peck her eyes out. 

The smell of roast, baked potatoes and greens wafted innocently over them, giving the impression that this was an ordinary Sunday dinner, just a normal girl’s parents meeting their soon-to-be son in law for the first time, but she stuck out her chin, glaring back at her stern teacher. 

“After the way you behaved, they think you’ve somehow forced me into this, and sir, you _cannot_ behave like this in front of them. I want them to believe everything is fine. You said you’d help me. You promised me!” 

He was obviously about to growl further insults, but then she pleaded: “Sir, they are my _parents_. They need to know I’m happy. I can’t do it if they worry about me.” 

Visibly composing himself with an effort, he sat down, mouth working before he managed to say: “Would it be better if I Obliviated them and inserted a memory of us acting … _lovey_?” The last word was spat out, like he abhorred it, but she nodded. 

“Fine,” he said heavily, “I’ll play nice. Just… don’t expect me to _cuddle_ you.” 

Inside, she felt a flare of shock. Severus Snape would actually do as she had asked. _Well, wasn’t that a first?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go Hermione, lol! 
> 
> I feel for the Grangers, really. 
> 
> Imagine, having your seventeen year old daughter coming home from boarding school, with her teacher in tow, telling you she's going to marry this man whom you don't know at all? Maybe all you've heard is that he's a very strict teacher, prone to show favouritism, and not towards your daughter and her friends. 
> 
> Well, 'luckily', such distrust and suspicion can easily be remedied by an Obliviate and well-placed false memories... *rolls eyes*


	3. Undergo the Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes, well, Miss Granger,” Professor Snape said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable, and she peered up into his face. 
> 
> Closing her eyes, she tipped her chin up, gripping his upper arms. Strangely enough, he seemed to be trembling, but his mouth came down, leaving a dry peck on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting! 
> 
> You're the best. <3

Her parents had been convinced, as the Obliviate and the false memory seemed to do the trick. Hermione couldn’t help wondering if the Professor also had modified their sentiments. While she was happy the outright hostility had vanished, they should have retained _some_ reservations. Knowing them, they wouldn’t want her to marry a stranger all of a sudden. _Though, they seemed to have no such qualms now._

“We’re so happy for you, sweetheart,” her mother gushed as they took their leave, and her father hugged her, hard, before he shook Professor Snape’s hand, saying with an odd catch in his voice: “You treat our little princess nicely, will you? She’s the only one we got.” 

The Professor had kept his promise after the Obliviate, playing along, and now he shook hands with her father, saying in a gratingly low voice: “Oh, I will. She’s just as important to me.” 

His face wasn’t his usual blank, instead, he looked very intense, mouth pursed slightly like he was determined to keep that promise. _As if her Professor claiming she was important to him was something he really felt, deep in his heart, as if saying this was nothing out of the ordinary_. 

She knew he played a role for Voldemort - _maybe he even played a role at school_ \- but somehow, Hermione had never appreciated the fact that her Professor had to be a consummate actor. There was a small pang in her heart, and suddenly, she wished for his act to be the truth. _That she was marrying a man who’d truthfully, with such a burning intensity, would tell her parents how important she was to him. Instead she was marrying someone who reluctantly had agreed to play the part._

“More so, I’d say!” her mother exclaimed, going so far as to hug the Professor, hard. 

Hermione held her breath, so _sure_ this would be too much for Snape - _this would inevitably cause him to hex her mother -_ but he calmly patted her mother’s back before stepping back, pulling Hermione into the crook of his arm. 

His body was strangely warm against her side, and his large palm crept a little tentatively around her waist, settling on her hip. For a moment, she felt almost disoriented - _he had said no cuddling -_ but then she realized he was getting them ready to Apparate. 

“Wait, I have my license,” she started weakly, knowing that a Side-Along was much more uncomfortable than Apparating by oneself, but he just strengthened his grip, murmuring into her ear: “Oh, you know I’d do anything for my future wife.” 

“Look, aren’t they adorable!” her mother squealed, yanking her father’s arm repeatedly, before they waved goodbye, and Hermione and Snape were off. 

Landing just outside the gates, she staggered, wheezing after the uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed into atoms and put back together. 

Her Professor pushed her off, grumbling: “You can stand on your own legs, Granger, don’t cling to _me_.” 

It was as if a switch had been flipped off, and he was back to his usual glower. Professor Snape stalked off, robes swishing, leaving her alone for the long walk up to the castle through the grounds. 

She walked slowly through the glittering frost covering the grounds, feeling the January chill seep into her very bones. _Oh, how she wished for what they had enacted for her parents to be true, instead of … this. Now, she had had a glimpse of how Professor Snape thought a relationship should be. That made it harder to settle for his usual ire._

In the Charms corridor, on her way to Gryffindor Tower, she met Ron. 

“I need to talk to you,” he said, looking earnestly at her. There was no one else in the vicinity, and she wondered if Ron had waited for her, or if meeting her was merely an accident. 

“Oh,” she sniffed, “about what?” 

Ron had been decidedly unpleasant to her for months now, and busy with Lavender besides. It had felt like they weren’t friends anymore, but she felt her heart clench seeing his worried face. 

Motioning her into the empty classroom, he said awkwardly: “Harry told me. I’m so sorry, ‘Mione, this is…” 

Gripping her hand, he seemed to be at loss for words. He pushed her back to sit on a desk, her legs swinging underneath it, while he stood directly in front of her, looking so very sad and forlorn, blue eyes locked on her face.

“Harry told you..” she said slowly. _She had made Harry promise not to tell anyone, but of course, she should have understood he’d tell Ron_ **_anyway_** _, no matter her wishes._

Feeling exasperated with the boys, she sighed. “Oh Ron, don’t tell anyone, and I mean _no one_ , you hear me? Not until after the fact. No one at Hogwarts, not your family - not anyone.” 

“Yes,” he choked out, “I understand. But ‘Mione, this is… You can’t marry Snape!” 

“I can and I will, to help us win,” she said, wondering for the second time why she had to be the voice of reason to her friends, comforting them, when it was _her_ life that was destroyed. 

“But … it’s Snape! He’s going to … you know, he’s a bastard! And he’s a Death Eater too, who knows what kind of things he’s into?” 

With a fierce blush - _like her own mind hadn’t been running in those directions -_ she fought down her own maddening insecurities, and said firmly: “Dumbledore trusts him. So do I, Ronald.” 

“Who knows,” he muttered darkly, before scrubbing his face with both hands. “Alright, I never thought I would say this yet, but… I always thought it would be you and me.” 

At her incredulous look, he clarified: “Marrying, you know.” 

Feeling a sudden fury boiling in her gut, she almost shrieked: “What the _fuck_ are you doing with Lavender, then?” _If the blasted boy had come clean earlier, she could have told Dumbledore that she had someone - a legitimate excuse - and then she wouldn’t have to marry a man who so obviously didn’t want her!_

Ron was red-faced, his eyes darting around the room, before he whispered: “Just … practising, sort of, like before it’s real, you know? While you, I knew you were waiting for me, so...” 

Seeing her face, he took a hurried step back, his expression alarmed. 

Stamping her foot, she wanted to slap his silly face, but instead, she snarled: “Like ‘sowing wild oats’, is it? Sleeping around before you settle? Fuck you, Ronald, as if I would _ever_ wanted you after that!” 

Storming out, running through the corridors with no destination in mind, she wondered if it was true. _Would she have forgiven him, if he ended it with Lavender? Would she have been the kind of woman who waited for her man, patiently, until he came back to her, no matter what he had done, and with whom? She certainly didn’t want to be like that, but she couldn’t help wonder. Maybe she would have forgiven him, or maybe she was better off now, more in line with her ideals and principles, not compromising what she thought was right. But then again, she had to marry Snape…_

Walking through the halls, she slowly calmed down. To be fair, she had nursed feelings for Ron earlier, but after months of seeing him snogging another girl, she couldn’t say she was _that_ attached to him. And now, she’d soon promise to be true to Professor Snape for the rest of her life. 

Sitting down by a window, looking out at the darkening grounds, har thoughts strayed to her future husband. _How did she feel about him?_

 _There was admiration, she knew that, though paired with a very realistic view of his faults._ He was brilliant, fiercely private, impatient and well-read. He was also sarcastic, moody and unfair, and prone to bursts of anger. But then again, he was also loyal, had protected herself and her friends many times, and he was balancing on a tightrope in his role as a spy. She supposed, his role may account for some of his unfairness and displays of anger. 

During her years at Hogwarts, whenever she had approached him at office hours, when no one else was around, he had always been more reasonable, engaging in discussions with her, though he was still snarky. She could easily picture the two of them reading by the fireplace, discussing magic or politics. _And if he were to act like he did at her parents’ house, it would actually be very nice. So good, something she would enjoy very much._

 _But the obligatory sex…_ Hermione blushed. 

She had, occasionally, fantasized about him alone in her four-poster bed. He wasn’t traditionally good-looking, but there was something about him, triggering a response from her. At times, glancing at him in class or in the Great Hall, she could feel something hot shooting through her, unbidden tremors in her belly, even the rare rush of slickness. 

Then again, she had fantasies about other wizards too, not only him. _Still, maybe it would be … tolerable. She would try, at least._

Shaking herself, she sighed. _It wouldn’t matter, as he certainly had no interest in a school girl. While she might not be repulsed by him, he obviously had no such interest in her, he had even gone as far as disparaged her teeth in the past. And it seemed, he planned to stay true to his glowering persona, not all of a sudden becoming a courteous, passionate lover._

Xxxx

Ensconced in his quarters, Severus downed a glass of Firewhisky, gasping as the burn slid down his throat. _She had called him out on his promise, and he knew she was right. He had acted stupidly with the Grangers, taunting her, making her parents uncomfortable._

It had been odd, though, seeing the obvious care and love between the girl and her parents, and he wondered, what his life would have been like, if he too had grown up in wealth, with lots of books and loving parents. 

Thankfully, the Grangers were years older than him, having had their daughter rather late. 

Thankfully, her father had proved to be fourteen years older than her mother, so they didn’t balk that much at the age gap.

Thankfully, the Obliviate and the newly minted memories had worked like a dream, but then again, he was _good_ at Mind Magic. _Even the Dark Lord said so. Tweaking their suspicions and worries into a gushing happiness had been … easy. Then again, Muggles had no defenses against magic, as he very well knew._

The girl would never find out that he had inserted a memory where his arm had been slung posessively around her shoulders as she introduced him, and that he had been stealing a kiss from her as the Grangers had turned their back - but that they had been caught red-handed, to the amusement of her parents. 

To his surprise, it had felt good, immersing himself into the role of being her caring lover. _Their relationship should be like that, if real feelings were at play. But it wasn’t. This was just a forced marriage to do the Dark Lord’s bidding._

Severus sighed. At least, her parents wouldn’t find out that their daughter had married an outcast, a socially awkward man, who hadn’t managed to get into the knickers of a girl by the ripe age of thirty-seven. 

_After the debacle with Lily in his fifth year, everyone at school had laughed at him, derided him for the way he had debased himself outside the Gryffindor Common Room, crying, begging for Lily’s forgiveness. No one had been the least interested in being associated romantically with the school’s most desperate wizard, known to be helplessly in love with the beautiful Lily Evans._

_Later, after he had joined Voldemort, going out at bars for picking up witches had been out of the question, and Muggles even more so. Most witches shunned a Death Eater, and going with a crowd of his fellow brethren inevitably led to things he couldn’t stomach. Whatever was said of him, he had never raped a girl, and he never would. And the female Death Eaters… well, they were not an option. He didn’t want a witch who gloried in other people’s suffering, not even when he did so himself. He wanted someone_ **_better_** _. Someone like Lily._

_Thus, the years had gone by, and suddenly, being a virgin was a barrier in itself. Witches would expect him to be experienced, and he just couldn’t face the derision when he was exposed to be sexually inept. Better to stick to his trusty right hand, than to risk the carefully built image of the imposing, competent and scary Professor Snape._

But tomorrow, he would have to face up to his fears, by losing his virginity to a student, no less. His stomach felt queasy - more so by the thought of how the little Gryffindor Princess would mock him, than the thought of having to be with her for life. 

The girl was ok, really, though she was annoying, always chasing after praise like a cat after catnip, and she was intelligent, kind and studious with a keen grasp on politics and magic alike. _Yes, he could see himself enjoying everyday life with her, if he only got through tomorrow night without being a total failure._

His hands shook as he poured another finger of Firewhisky into his glass - _no, make it two, he decided -_ but his cock, that traitorous thing, twitched by the thought of thrusting into Miss Granger’s undoubtedly sweet quim. 

  
  
  


Xxxx

  
  


As Dumbledore was sincerely worried about Voldemort interfering with his plans, he had given them only days to adjust to the idea. 

Standing beside Snape, both of them in dress robes in the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore was to perform the rite, with McGonagall and Harry as witnesses, both of them looking as disapproving of the act as it was possible to imagine. The old witch pinched her mouth, her lips almost whitening at the edge, glaring at the Headmaster and Snape in turn, while Harry’s face seemed to be almost green. 

Herself, she felt as if she was clammy pale, her hands shaking as she clasped Professor Snape’s hands. His hands were warm, dry and steady, and she felt like a nervous young fool - probably exactly what her new husband thought of her. _A young, foolish girl, not fit to be his wife, someone he’d only suffer because he was forced too._

The lump in her throat grew, and she swallowed. _Was it worth it? Yes, for winning the war, it was, but then again, it was her life! Why was she so ready to sacrifice herself for the Greater Good, tying herself to a man who didn’t even like her. Even if she admired him…_

“Do you, Severus Tobias Snape, take this witch to be your wife? Will you protect and provide for her, give her children, be faithful to her and cherish her for as long as you live?” Dumbledore asked gravely, his wand pointed at their hands. 

“I do, and I will,” her Professor gritted out, like he didn’t want to promise either of those things. 

“Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take this wizard to be your husband? Will you care and tend for him, give him children, be faithful to him and cherish him for as long as you live?” 

“I do and I will,” she croaked out, noting with irritation that she was supposed to _care_ for him, while he only had to protect her. _It would be better to promise only protection, that she could have done easily with all her heart. But to care for him? Logically, she knew it was the wizarding world’s old-fashioned way of saying that she should be responsible for the house, and he was supposed to keep her safe and earn their income, but the word ‘care’ meant more than that. It was also a feeling, something HE didn’t have to promise at all._

“I declare you husband and wife,” Dumbledore said, relief making his shoulders slump, and from his wand, a golden bond burst forth, snaking around their hands, slithering around their fingers to settle into two, golden wedding bands. 

“You may now kiss the bride, Severus,” Dumbledore said, retreating hastily behind his desk. 

McGonagall harrumphed, and turned away, but Harry was staring at the two of them with a mix of disbelief, disgust and sorrow, signaling that he’d never fully believed this marriage actually would happen. 

“Yes, well, Miss Granger,” Professor Snape said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable, and she peered up into his face. Closing her eyes, she tipped her chin up, gripping his upper arms. Strangely enough, he seemed to be trembling, but his mouth came down, leaving a dry peck on her lips. 

He withdrew quickly, straightening and moving away from her, and then she cleared her throat. “You can’t go about calling me Miss Granger, if this is to be considered real.” 

Her new husband made a small growl, and swirled around, arms crossed over his chest, facing her with his customary glower. “I suppose you are right, _Madam Snape_ ,” he sneered. 

McGonagall interrupted: “Really, Severus, be civil to the girl! She’s doing you and the Order a great service. The least you can do is to treat her with respect.” 

His eyebrow came up, and he said arrogantly: “I thank you to not interfere with my marriage, Minerva. I certainly keep out of the way when you go down to Hogsmeade in a heat to find yourself a tom.” 

Dumbledore sputtered, and Hermione had the odd notion that he was laughing, but Harry stared at McGonagall in abject horror, probably wondering if this was true or not. As for that matter, Hermione couldn’t help wondering, herself. 

The old witch pinched her lips together even more, and gave Snape a look of utter contempt. “Congratulations, _Miss Granger_ ,” she said, haughtily ignoring the act she had just witnessed and Hermione’s own words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to curb his … snark in time. Remember, a husband must be reined in firmly, and you must show him and guide him through the _simplest -_ and most _unexpected_ \- of things.” 

By that statement, her Head of House swept out of the room, leaving Snape a seething thundercloud, Dumbledore chomping down hard on a sweet to stifle what _had_ to be laughter, an astonished Harry Potter and Hermione herself. _Sincerely, she hoped McGonagall was wrong, because she couldn’t see how she was supposed to guide someone like Severus Snape into doing_ **_anything_** _. But she had to. She was not about to lose herself into this … farce … of a marriage. He might be older, more experienced and powerful, but she wasn’t about to fade away into his shadow._

Steeling herself, she knew she had to be tough, dealing with her glowering husband. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, we'll be back at the beginning in the next chapter. *grins*


	4. Experience the Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then the protectiveness from his marriage vow, and something inherent in himself came into play. 
> 
> He was responsible for her wellbeing. Tonight, he had vowed to protect her from harm, to provide for her needs. She was to be his, only his, and no one else’s. He would have to make it good for her too, somehow, though he didn’t know how. He had made a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the tag, right? 'Awkward Sexual Situations'. 
> 
> That's right. That's exactly what's coming up. I hope you enjoy! *grins*

“ _Kiss_ you?” he repeated, looking flabbergasted at his wife. 

Her bushy curls were spread around her shoulders, her face almost touching his as she leaned forward, soft hands still touching his bare chest to push him back. Then, apparently satisfied he wasn’t about to take her right away, she leaned back, big brown eyes locked on his face, crossing her arms over those pale, round and luscious tits, making them pillow underneath her arms, almost spilling over her hands. His cock twitched wildly at the sight, much too ready for his liking. 

Inside, though, he felt like the damned thing should have deflated. _This was it. She was obviously confident, knowing what she wanted, probably demanding her pleasure like she was used to receive it, and Severus felt stupid, inexperienced and exposed under her gaze. Very soon, she’d know he hadn’t the faintest idea of what to do._

That was, he had both read a lot and seen his fair share of wizarding porn, but it wasn’t the real thing. _He strongly suspected she wouldn’t just orgasm with frantic shrieks because he suckled on her tits, now, would she? Reality would be far away from those witches in the dirty magazines he used to read. Though, kissing was probably a fair request._

Retreating into formality to hide his confusion and insecurity, he nodded at her, his voice a little gravelly: “I see, I’ve been remiss. What do you want me to do?” 

The confusion in _her_ eyes was a small boost to his battered self-esteem. Then she blinked, saying: “Just … do what you usually do, I guess?” 

His satisfaction for having successfully played the Quaffle into her range morphed into irritation, as she again begged him to take an initiative he didn’t know how to handle. Glaring at her, at the same time marvelling that someone so annoying could have such an effect upon his cock, just by being _naked_ , he opted to just arrogantly arch an eyebrow at her. 

Their eyes locked for a few moments in a stalemate, both unwilling to look away. 

Then her lip trembled, her strong gaze weakening, and she whispered: “I haven’t done this before, so I don’t know what to do, exactly, but I want this to work for us. To make it as good as it can be.” 

He stared at her, unblinking, his face frozen into his usual frown. 

_She was a virgin too? Suddenly, he felt almost jubilant. She had no previous experience to compare him to, and he wouldn’t fall short of some obscure standard she had set by previous encounters._

Then the protectiveness from his marriage vow, and something inherent in himself came into play. _He was responsible for her wellbeing. Tonight, he had vowed to protect her from harm, to provide for her needs. She was to be his, only his, and no one else’s. And wasn’t she just adorable, luscious virginal body, brilliant though annoying mind, nervousness and all. He would have to make it good for her too, somehow, though he didn’t know how. He had made a promise._

“Miss Granger,” he said, finding his voice to be remarkably steady and strong, considering the fact that his cock was bobbing against his stomach in eager anticipation, leaving a wet trail around his navel, but then the chit put her finger over her pink, moist lips, hushing him, shaking her head. 

“No, not Miss Granger, anymore.” 

“Madam Sn…” he began, but she interrupted him again. 

“No, _Hermione_ ,” she said, brown eyes imploring him, “we’re to be so … intimate, please, I can’t call you ‘sir’ in bed.” 

That made him almost smile, as he had read any number of stories where the witch had called her lover exactly that, but then those stories often had included ropes and spankings, too. He couldn’t imagine that would come into play on this night. _Maybe later, though._

“Hermione,” he repeated after her, his voice softening. Leaning down, he dared a kiss on her full mouth, pressing his lips to hers. _Her mouth felt soft, warm, and just as inappropriately as it had acted out in Dumbledore’s office, his cock started to throb._

This time, however, he didn’t retreat as quickly. Instead, he let his lips linger on hers, moving carefully, and her little gasp of surprise went straight to his groin, shooting like an arrow of heat. Slowly, their lips parted, and her tongue darted out to lick his lips. He groaned, sticking out his own tongue, entering her mouth, entwining his tongue with hers. 

Laying down on top of her, supporting himself on one arm, he felt like this was heaven. Soft breasts caressed his chest, stirring the hairs there with a pleasant tickle, his cock was lodged against a smooth thigh, and a warm, wet mouth welcomed his own. _Soon, he’d even be thrusting inside her._ The thought almost made him spill over, but he forced his orgasm back, fighting the ecstasy by quickly reciting the recipe for the complicated Mandrake Restorative Potion to himself. 

The girl moaned into his mouth, and her hands came down to stroke his arms and shoulders, caressing him with soft hands, fingers trailing over his shoulder blades, his upper arms, stopping to pet a few scars gently, examining them with her fingertips. 

Severus shuddered in pure, unadulterated pleasure, spine crouching like he was a giant cat, and goosebumps broke out over his entire body. _Merlin, to be touched, to be stroked like this… He hadn’t known how much his body had missed exactly that, but obviously, it had. He had to reciprocate. Do something, Severus,_ his brain insisted _, do something to make it good for her too!_

A little clumsily, his free hand grabbed her breast, playing with her nipple, feeling it pebble under his hands. The kissing intensified, his lips becoming all sloppy and wet, and the girl - _his very own wife -_ whimpered in pleasure, writhing underneath him as he continued to squeeze and pet those perfect tits. 

The aching in his too-hard cock grew to immense proportions, and his balls were tightening, lifting up. _The signs were all there, he was going to come, very soon, Mandrake Restorative Potion or no._

Gasping, he broke free from her mouth, knowing that he was about to embarrass himself quite thoroughly. _Better inside her than on the outside,_ he thought wildly, pushing her thighs apart, guiding his nearly bursting cock to her opening. 

He flushed, as the girl said “Wait…” in a strangled tone, but he couldn’t wait, _not at all, he was in a **hurry**_ , and he pushed inside, making her squirm with a small grunt, and with four desperate strokes, he was done for, cock jerking inside that warm, wonderful, tight, hot sheath. His entire body was pulsing, hips thrusting erratically as jets of come shot out of him, eyes closed though lights were pulsing rapidly on the inside of his eyelids, his orgasm thundering through him, making him shake and gasp, bucking into her, his head thrown back, face contorted into a grimace of ecstasy. 

Breathing hard, he came too, noticing that the girl cradled his head into her shoulder. _Gods, this was it. Now, she’d know. What man at his age managed only four thrusts into a woman? And, she had asked him to wait, and he hadn’t listened. He had, effectively, made a fool of himself. But by the gods, fucking her felt glorious._

His wife made a small chuckle. “You’re heavy,” she said, and he could tell she was smiling. _Laughing at him, no doubt. Ready to call him out for his shortcomings, for his too-early release._

He grunted, rolling to her side, not meeting her eyes, his cock sliding wetly out of her body, leaving a sticky trail on her thighs.

She lay still beside him, slowly stroking his arm as his heartbeat slowed from frantic to steady. Her breath was warm on his shoulder, as she whispered: “I’m flattered, really, to get such a reaction out of you. I thought you didn’t even like me.” 

He only grunted again, having no answer to this. _What could he say? Certainly not the truth, that he was just an over-eager virgin shooting his load before they had even got started._

She continued, her tone thoughtful and musing: “It makes me feel … wanted. I thought, you’d see this as a chore, something you didn’t want to do at all with me, but I feel much better now, knowing that you really enjoyed being with me.” 

In pleasant surprise - _it seemed she wasn’t going to make a fool of him, at least not right away_ \- he relaxed, letting himself enjoy the blessed afterglow of his orgasm. Her pert little nose nuzzled into his shoulder, and despite himself, he lifted his arm, pulling her into his chest. Soft curves molded to his hard frame, and he felt lucky, knowing that he could do this with her again. _And again, preferably lasting longer with time._

Then she wriggled onto her back, and decisively, she took his hand, bringing it between her legs. He stiffened, but his curiosity got the best of him, and he fumbled through those folds, slick and sticky with his own release. “I want to make the best out of this, our marriage, our marriage bed. I may not come, but at least, I want to try,” she mumbled. 

Hoarsely, like he had been shouting - _he hadn’t, had he? -_ he said: “Show me how you like to be touched.” 

The girl nodded, and she guided his hand to a small nub almost at the beginning of her wet slit, stroking, circling the little nub. After a short while, he felt it become more prominent, harder, and he let his other hand play with her breast, caressing the hard bud. 

The girl - _Hermione, his wife -_ gasped, and she moved her hips against his hand. He marvelled at the softness of her, how good it felt to slide his fingers through her slick sex, rubbing her with his fingertips. Leaning down, he took her other nipple in his mouth, teasing the little peak with his tongue, and was rewarded with a moan. 

Slowly, he sped up the movements of his hand in time with her movements, letting her lead the way by doing more of those things that made her moan and sigh, and after a long crescendo of little pants and whimpers, hips writhing underneath his hand, her nipples hardening, she bucked into his hand, gasping and trembling, her back arching up from the mattress, legs shaking. With a final whine of “Severus!” she flopped back on the mattress, body limp, like she was exhausted, but her face looked happy. 

Surprised to no end, he knew he had just made his wife come. 

She made a breathless little noise, before curling up to him, resting her head on his chest again. He almost wanted to laugh - laugh in pure disbelief at the fact that this night had turned out so well. _He had worried about this event for years, and now, his new wife was satisfied, and she hadn’t laughed at his too-quick release. In fact, he wasn’t sure she had cottoned on to the fact that he’d never done this before. If she hadn’t, he would never volunteer the information._

Breath tickling his chest, she mumbled: “I never thought my life would be like this. Now I’m married to you, and you’ll be the only wizard in my bed forever.” 

“I know,” he said, a strong surge of protectiveness, of possessiveness rearing its head in his chest - _his wife - she was_ **_HIS!_ ** _-_ “who would have thought this would happen. Not me, certainly.” _And she would be the only witch he ever went to bed with. That felt … good._

As her heartbeat slowly calmed against his ribcage, he whispered: “And you are right, Hermione. You and I, we may not have been in control as to how we came to be here. But we can make the most of it, like you said. I promise you, I’ll try. I always keep my promises.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting on this little story! 
> 
> Most of all, I see Severus as a very protective man behind that facade. I'm sure he'd end up taking very good care of Hermione, and... he'll fall in love. They both would (of course - what's not to love about Severus?), but I don't believe in instant love under such circumstances. 
> 
> This must also be the fluffiest little thing I’ve ever written, apart from the awkward sex, lol. I’m part shocked, part amazed - I didn’t think fluff was my thing.


End file.
